A Letter From Anne
by smallrose
Summary: How a letter from Anne brightens Gil's day...


_A/N I do know proper writing, but for some reason, the site doesn't let me indent or center my title... What's new? ;) This isn't betaread because I can't figure out how to get a betareader. If you've got advice, it's definitely welcome!_

Disclaimer: I'm not L.M. Montgomery (obviosly, she's sort of dead...)

**A Letter from Anne**

Gilbert Blythe scrubbed his hands clean and gave a silent sigh. The medical student felt discouraged. It was at times like this, when they'd lost a patient, that he just couldn't stop himself from thinking _what's it all worth anyway?_

Dr. Fletcher watched the young student with a slight smile on his weather beaten face. "Don't you wish we still had the empathy those young fellows have?" he asked a colleague.

"You know, sometimes," answered Dr. Brant, "There are times that I see my younger self reflected in those idealistic students, like that fellow, Blythe, over there. I hope he doesn't dwell too much on what happened today. These young fellows sometimes forget all the good things in life that make it worth living. They sometimes forget all the good that they can still do, the many lives they can save, when they lose one patient."

Dr. Fletcher nodded in agreement.

Gilbert finished washing up and changed into his street clothes, heading for his boarding house.

* * *

Gilbert turned the key in the lock and opened the door to his rooms. Charlie Sloane had finished college last year and now Gilbert roomed with some fellow medical students; no one that had known him from before college.

He glanced around the darkened, empty room dispiritedly. As usual, no one else was home, if that's what the rooms could be called anyway. Even if anyone had been there, it wouldn't have made a difference. Oh, Joey and Ted were nice enough fellows, but, _they didn't know him_, not being from Avonlea, they couldn't_._

With a sigh Gilbert went back out, locking up behind him. A walk would most definitely be better than sitting in the dark rooms alone. As Gilbert turned up the street, he bumped into Ted.

"Hey, Blythe! I've actually got something for you here," said Ted Williams.

"Oh, really?" asked Gilbert putting on a face of cheerfulness.

"You look like you had a rough day. Everything all right at the hospital?" questioned Ted with a concerned look at his fellow boarder who was usually livelier.

"Lost a patient. An old woman with Pneumonia." Gilbert answered tersely.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I hate those days… Well, where are you headed to now?"

"I thought I'd take a walk, it's a nice day. Maybe I'll stop in the post office and see if there's anything from home."

"No need!" said Ted, more cheerful now, "That's actually what I started to tell you about before. I stopped in. Here's a letter for you, and there's one more for Joey." He handed the crisp, white envelope to Gilbert.

Gilbert took the envelope. His face immediately brightened as he saw the return address: Windy Poplars, Spooks Lane…

Ted looked at the envelope curiously, wondering how the mere sight of it had altered his fellow boarder's mood so considerably, he'd have to find out who it was from. All he said now though, was, "Well, I guess I'll see you later. I'm going up to the rooms to catch a nap."

Gilbert nodded and continued on down the street. He'd go to the park; what better place to read this letter than in that little bit of green that reminded him of home.

* * *

Gilbert turned to the next page of the thick epistle, smiling at all the little bits of news that Anne had put in ways that only Anne could. As he perused the pages, a sudden smile flooded his face. Anyone watching would have wondered at the cause, and even if told the words, wouldn't be able to fully grasp the meaning: _Gil, my pen isn't scratchy, or jerky, or anything, it's the perfect pen, so…_

Maybe there were some good things in life, even on a dreary day like today. Good things like a girl with grey eyes, red hair (although, don't try to tell _her_ that!), and creamy skin, who wore a circlet of pearls on her finger, promising to wait for him, his Anne-girl with whom he would build their House o' Dreams.

_A/N Well if you read the whole thing from top to bottom, you know that this wasn't betaread, therefore, **all** criticisms are welcome - compliments, too, of course ;-D._


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